Full Moon
by ilovesirius93
Summary: A story involving a muggle detective that knows about the secrets of the Wizarding World. Detective Ben Pierce investigates a brutal killing from the hands of a werewolf


**Full Moon**

Detective Ben Pierce tightened his grip on his gun and took cautious steps inside the abandoned house. His footsteps caused the old wood underneath him to groan and protest.

On the outside, it had seemed that this place couldn't possibly be occupied. The two story building was crumbling and run down. However, as soon as Ben had scanned the front lobby, he was sure there was someone – or something – inside.

Furniture had been mauled. Wood was splintered, the couch ripped. Broken glass littered the floor.

Silvery, fragile light shone from an open window. Ben looked up through it and looked at the sky. It was a moonbeam, peeking through thick curtain of dark clouds. Unhurriedly, the clouds parted to expose a full moon.

Its light shone straight onto a rug by Ben's foot. Eyes narrow, he bent closer. There was a suspicious dark puddle seeping into it.

Kiki Tanner, his partner, practically breathed down his neck until he stopped to give her an irritated look.

"Sorry," she mouthed. Ben returned his gaze to the scruffy rug and took a careful swipe at it with his index finger. It came back wet. Cautiously, he held it up to his nose and took a sniff.

"_Blood_," he thought grimly and stood up straight. Suddenly, things were more serious. Motioning silently, he indicated that Kiki follow him up the stairs.

Every step was deafening to his ears. More than once, Ben wondered if the old wood would hold or just give way underneath him. Eyes roving, he got to the landing and pointed his gun at the closest door. It was closed.

On a silent count of three, he kicked it hard.

The door slammed open with so much momentum that it slammed hard on the wall. The noise it made echoed through the entire house and Ben could practically feel Kiki cringe. He knew she was glaring daggers into his back.

If anyone was inside, they would be aware of the company. Yet he couldn't hear anything else in the house.

The room was empty, save for an upturned chair and a closet. With a silent nod to Kiki, Ben went to the closet and shoved open the door. Over his shoulder, Kiki raised her gun in one swift movement.

Nothing. It was empty.

Ben bit off an oath and turned around.

He came face to face with a woman holding a wand to his chest threateningly. 

She was tall and slim. Her dark hair stopped a few inches past at her shoulders. At the moment, her expression was quite hostile and even in the darkness, he could see that her dark eyebrows were knitted in a scowl.

"Amie! What the hell are you doing on my crime scene?" he demanded, shoving her hand away, embarrassed that his heart rate had escalated profoundly, once again.

"_Your_ crime scene?" The woman hissed, her eyes flaring. "This is a case for the Werewolf Rights Department, Pierce."

"I don't think so - _would you get that thing out of my face!_?" he exclaimed loudly, pushing her hand away as she pointed her wand at him again. The thing always gave him the creeps. It seemed to him like a time bomb, ticking away before it blasted a ray of light and caused any number of things to happen. He had seen what it could do and it never failed to put him on edge.

Kiki squeezed herself in between them, always the neutral party.

"Relax guys," she said firmly. "We've still got to scope the entire house. Ms. Tankersley, put it away, please."

The woman relaxed her grip on her wand and let her arm fall loosely to her side. With a final glare at Ben, she strode out. Kiki and Ben followed.

Amie was already at the next door, which was half open. Amie pushed it open with her hand and it creaked open gloomily.

"Nothing at all," she announced and left Ben and Kiki to do a more thorough analysis of the room. When they caught up with her again, she was at the last door on the hall. If it could be called a door now, seeing as it had been ripped off its hinges and shredded to pieces, quite unceremoniously.

"Oh man," she murmured in a tone that had Ben feeling concerned. He nudged her out of the way so he could see for himself.

The smell of death wafted towards him. Ben slowly scanned the room, raising his gun in front of him and clicking off the safety.

A body lay sprawled on the bed, so brutally mangled that he could barely look. The girl had no face anymore, only a bloody mess. He wasn't even sure if it was a woman, but the silk blouse seemed feminine enough. Despite the fact that it was ripped and splattered with bright red blood, it had remained on the body, modestly covering it.

Bile rose up his throat and Ben swallowed the acidic taste, feeling absolutely sick. His stomach tied itself in painful knots and he found it hard to breathe.

"Jesus Christ," Kiki whispered, then rushed out of the room. He could hear her retching outside.

The blood pooling from various places stained the dirty bed sheets so that the original color was unidentifiable. Despite his wish to just look away and walk out of the room, Ben walked closer. Amie put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Nothing in your world could have caused such damage," she said softly. "I'm going to have to take her in."

Ben looked over his shoulder at her.

"This concerns my people," he growled with emotion. "She's not a witch, is she? She's a goddamn girl, probably from a close neighborhood! Jesus, she didn't do anything to deserve this!"

Amie opened her mouth to say something but closed it, thinking it was better to be silent.

"I'm going to be part of this investigation, got it?"

Amie looked at Ben hard and long. His green eyes looked anguished but determined. She knew from the moment that she had revealed herself as a witch to him, that he was right for this type of job. Sure, he may resent her for making his life complicated. But she knew that he was passionate about his job and empathetic towards the victims. Also, Ben Pierce was known for investigating the whys and why-nots of a crime. He was known for sympathizing towards innocent suspects. He didn't jump to biased conclusions. She needed someone like Ben Pierce for outside jobs like this one. He was a good detective and an excellent representative for the Muggles.

Amie finally nodded, if a little reluctantly. She set to work then, ready to start the grim clean-up routine. With her wand raised, Amie advanced towards the bed.

Ben walked away, finally unable to stomach the horrific sight. He had been a police officer for a few years now; a detective for a few months. He had yet to get used to the brutality in which death announced itself.

Amie herself couldn't look at the body. Focusing on an imaginary point on the wall behind the bed, she put silent spells to preserve evidence and anything else that would come in handy to finding out the identity of the werewolf. But she already knew who had caused this.

"_Oh, Remus_," she thought miserably. "_What have you done_?"

xxxxx

Ben Pierce entered his office and dropped his shoulder holster on his desk. The gun that was attached made a loud thump. Ben took a seat and ran a hand through his thick brown hair. Then he put his fingers on his burning eye sockets and contemplated the turns his life had taken since he had become a detective.

If he had known that his job would be this crazy, he would have thought twice before making his career choice.

Who would believe him if he told them that being a detective in London required him to associate himself with wizards and witches on occasion? No one, that's who! No person in his or her right mind would believe that his police department was actually getting used to seeing levitating objects, moving pictures and magical creatures.

Amie Tankersley had first approached Ben six months ago. Kiki and he had been investigating a series of killings that made no sense what so ever. The only theory that could be plausible was an animal attack. But those paw prints didn't match any creature in the damn world! Only days into the investigation, Ben had been gotten a very discreet letter, telling him to show up at the local bar across the street from the police station.

Ben was known for his morbid curiosity. He knew he should have told his chief about the mysterious letter, or even his partner, Kiki. Yet, for an intangible reason, Ben had gone to the bar, alone. It was there that he was approached by a young woman. At first, he hadn't found any reason to complain at being in company with this pretty woman with the sultry, dark eyes. Then, she had opened his mouth. She had quietly informed him of what she was and what she did for a living. Amie had told him that she wished to work on the case with him because she strongly believed that a werewolf was behind the killings. Ben had downed two glasses of brandy when Amie had finished her story.

Who could have blamed him for laughing? _Witches and werewolves_? He wasn't nearly drunk enough to start believing such a load of bull!

Of course she had proved him otherwise by calmly turning his brandy into a bunch of brightly colored mice. When he had yelled in surprise, half the bar had looked at him curiously. But the colored rats had disappeared.

At first he had hoped it was just his imagination. But Amie Tankersley's steady gaze told him differently. When he was still appeared fractionally doubtful, she had shrugged and walked out of the bar. Leaving him with the bill.

The next time he saw her, she had dragged him out of bed in the middle of the night and popped him to the edge of a forest. That was the only he could explain it. One second, he was standing in his bedroom with nothing on but a pair of boxers. The next, he was following Amie Tankersley into the forest. Barefoot, of all things!

It was there that he had watched Amie and her department skillfully corner and capture a werewolf. That eventful day, he had watched with his own eyes as the werewolf transformed into a thin, disheveled man as soon as the full moon had disappeared in light of the morning sun.

"Why are your showing me this?" Ben had asked Amie, his voice on the brink of hysteria. "It's not like I can zap the werewolf away!"

"There are times when werewolves go after Muggles…that's what we call non-magical humans." Amie had smiled faintly.

"Sounds insulting," he had grumbled, crossing his arms over his bare chest. He wished she had let him put on some jeans and a sweater before rushing here.

Amie shrugged. "Like I said, werewolves don't discriminate. Human flesh attracts them. I need you to inform me if you come across what could be a werewolf attack. It'd make my job easier."

"And what if I tell people about your people?" Ben had asked when Amie had turned to walk away. She stopped short and gave him a long look.

"We can wipe memories. Who's to say that I won't wipe out sometime important while I'm cleaning out your mind? Like say, accidentally making you forget your ability to walk or talk," she had responded before disappearing with a pop. And he had to admit, she had him scared.

Since that day, he had worked with Amie Tankersley on a few occasions. He helped her put the pieces to puzzles together and she captured the werewolves. Whatever happened to them afterwards, he didn't wish to know. Although his damn curiosity bugged him about it sometimes, that's where he drew the line. He would NOT feel sympathy for those creatures.

A cough broke his train of thought. Opening one eye, he was pulled back from his memories and was back in his office. Amie was standing in front of him.

"You need to stop just appearing out of nowhere," he said gruffly.

"Actually, I walked in through the door," she responded, almost smiling. "This place hasn't changed since I was here last. It still smells of coffee, sweat and cleaning liquid. Ever tried air freshener?"

"What are you doing here?" he asked, wanting to be rude. His life would be normal if Amie Tankersley had never walked into his life and he only had her to blame for it. If she hadn't pulled her wand out over their first meeting, he might have even asked her out for dinner or something. Now, even that was ruined for him.

"Have you made a positive identity of the victim?" She looked amused by his hostile behavior.

"Kelly Brosten," he said. "You know, your job is easier than mine. You don't have to tell the parents that their kid's been murdered in the worst way possible."

That got a small reaction from Amie. She pursed her lips but let his comment go. "What did you tell them?"

"That right now, we were assuming it was an animal attack," Ben said bitterly.

Amie crossed her arms. "Don't use that tone, Pierce." she said angrily. "Did it occur to you that the werewolf that did this was innocent?"

Ben shot out of his chair, his green eyes flashing dangerously.

"No, I don't! Those – those creatures should be locked up!" he yelled. "They do nothing but cause harm to innocent people, who've done little wrong."

"When a mentally unstable person escapes from an asylum and commits mass murder around here, you feel for him. You understand what he's going through! But when it's a werewolf, you go on the offensive, Detective!" Amie countered, her fists clenched as she stepped closer to the desk that separated them. Her expression was just a notch off menacing. "They can't control it, dammit! It's animal instinct that drives them to bite and kill. It's something too strong to be controlled by the power of will!"

"You tell that to the loving family members of the victim next time," Ben said, slamming his fist on his desk. They were almost nose to nose now, each one battling against unleashing their rage on the other.

"I do! You think I only have to take care of Muggle cases? You ignorant son of a -" Amie stopped herself and took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her voice was lower, but unsteady. "I've had werewolves attack and kill their own family. I've had werewolves go berserk and leave a trail of blood that's a mile long behind them. And my department has to explain to families what happened. I understand it's not easy, Pierce, but don't act like I haven't been there."

Ben hated it when women made him feel guilty. Slowly but surely, he found himself thinking that maybe he was the one at fault here. Expelling air through his nose, he softened his expression and stared into her dark, dark eyes.

"Okay, maybe I was out of line," he admitted grudgingly. Amie's frown didn't smooth away.

"Whatever," she said. "What else have you gotten?"

"Kelly was there with her boyfriend. The werewolf came out of nowhere, according to the boyfriend. Paul Worthington's his name. He bolted when the beast – err, sorry, mythical creature was busy with Kelly. We found him at his house, white as a sheet and bawling. He's lucky he didn't see his girlfriend afterwards."

"Can he give a description before we have to wipe his memory?" Amie asked, trying to detach herself from Detective Pierce's words.

"No need, he thinks it was just an animal."

"I need a description, Ben," Amie said firmly.

"I thought you'd be stubborn about that," Ben said with a sigh. "So I asked him. Brown hair, like eight feet long at least and freaking scary as hell – that's a direct quote from the boyfriend, by the way."

Amie's face fell visibly and she looked away from him. Ben narrowed his eyes in apprehension.

"I know it'll sound weird to ask," he said slowly. "But I've seen a lot of weird things these past few months so I'm getting used to it. It just seems to me like...Amie, do you know this werewolf?"

Amie's eyes found his and he felt as if he had been hit on the head with a club. They were pooled with tears and held the answer to his question. Of all things holy….

"He's my best friend," she whispered.

xxxx

Kiki Tanner returned to the house. Almost every day, she would be there, looking up at it, thinking. Tomorrow would mark one month since the death of Kelly Brosten.

It haunted her. The girl that had been killed haunted her.

She had only been Ben's partner for two months. She had only encountered Amie and her werewolves once before. Even then, the helpless victim had been shown some mercy.

"The brutality of the killing shows the personality of the werewolf," Amie Tankersley had told her and Ben, the day after they had found the body. "If he has been trying to stop himself from turning or tries really hard to not kill, the werewolf in him unleashes with a vengeance. It is impossible for him to ignore a human when he sees it."

"So this werewolf didn't want to kill," Kiki had finished, catching on quickly.

"Not at all," Amie had said softly. "In fact, he hates what he is and just wants it all to stop. Of course, there is no cure for it."

Ben had given her a strange look then. Kiki saw sympathy and kindness in his jade green eyes. With a smirk, she hoped that he wasn't going soft on the witch lady.

Now she understood it. Amie had told her that she knew the werewolf. She knew him and wanted to find him, get him help. But this mysterious Remus Lupin didn't want to be found. And Kiki had to admit, he was excellent at remaining hidden.

The shadows from the setting sun had put the house in sharp relief. Dusk had come and gone and now, night was taking over.

From her position, Kiki could see the dirty curtains flapping from the window of the corner room. They had been ripped from constantly scraping against the broken glass that still remained intact on the window. It was the room where Kelly's body had been found.

Trees rustled in the constant breeze and Kiki's ginger hair fell in her face. She blinked it out of her eyes and pushed it away.

Suddenly, she noticed a movement out of the corner of her eye. It was a man, looking haggard and worn out. He was looking at her with wide eyes, his fear practically rippling out in waves. She shuddered as she turned to face him fully.

It wasn't often that people came near this house. Before Kelly's death, teenagers snuck in the house to light a smoke but even they avoided this place now.

He was thin, almost skeletal. His skin was sallow and malnourished, his matted hair showing a bit of gray. His t-shirt and jeans were filthy and ripped, as if he had been wearing them for much too long.

"You need to leave," he warned her in a croaky voice that sounded as if it wasn't used often. "Now."

Kiki's spine tingled. The poor man couldn't be over twenty five years old but he looked premature. Something in his expression caused her to shiver in panic.

"Do you need help?" she asked, but instinct and years of police training had her resting her hand on the butt of the gun in her holster.

"Leave!" The man yelled, his voice breaking with emotion now. "Before it's too late!"

With that, he bent down. Kiki pulled out her gun as his fingers closed over a hefty rock. It was the size of his palm.

"Hey!" she yelled. "Don't even think of throwing that!"

But he did just that. With surprising precision, he threw the rock and it caught her on the shoulder.

"If you know what's good for you, leave!" 

Kiki bit her inner cheek to stop from crying out in pain. Already, she could feel her shirt sticking to her skin. One glance told her that she was bleeding.

"You little creep!" she shouted. "I'll have you for harming a cop! Don't move!"

She couldn't possibly shoot him for throwing a rock. Too much paper work was involved. Just as Kiki was thinking of running after the jerk, he pulled out a stick.

"_Goddamit_!" she thought, recognizing a wand. Sparks flew out as the man tightened his grip on it. Kiki took a step back, warily.

The man said something under his breath and Kiki's gun flew away from her. It landed with a clatter twenty feet away.

Now she was angry. Ben warned her that her temper would get her killed one day. She didn't care. She'd done nothing to this wizard. Now, her shoulder was sore with pain and she wanted to hurt the man back.

Muttering a string of swear words, she dashed at the man.

Her sudden movement startled him. He lunged out of her grip and ran. Kiki yelled at him, pumping her legs and arms to take her closer to him.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" he shouted, his eyes bulging out. "PLEASE!"

Kiki didn't listen. In a flash, she had tackled him from the side. With an _'Oof'_ of shock, the man fell. His wand fell out of his hand and rolled a few feet away.

Quickly, Kiki had her handcuffs out and snapped them on the man's bony wrists. He looked like a trapped animal and tried to wrench out of her grip with surprising strength. But Kiki latched on for dear life as they rolled around in the dirt.

Finally, she got the other end of the handcuff around her own wrist. Now they were both joined.

"Ha!" she exclaimed in triumph, holding their joined hands up as she got off him. "Try to get away from me now, you jerk! I'm taking you back to the police station for assaulting a police officer."

"What have you done?" The man moaned in a fearful tone, his face going noticeably pale.

Kiki's smart remark was cut off by the look on his face. His eyes had gone absolutely blank and stared at something over her head. Kiki followed his gaze and blanched. Her heart knocked against her ribs.

A full moon was peeking through the clouds.

xxx

Ben pulled on his white button down shirt, scrutinizing his image in the bathroom mirror. His hair was still wet from the shower and sat matted on his forhead. Absently, he ran his fingers through it and reached for his tie.

"Here," Amie said, holding it out for him. Ben jumped at her voice and swore loudly.

"What the _hell_!" he cried, snatching his tie from her fingers. "Do you ever knock!"

Amie smiled.

"The fireplace is way more convenient," she replied with a shrug.

"Right," Ben said sarcastically as he put his tie on. The chief of the police department insisted that his officers look professional. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Hurry up, we have to go," Amie looked into his reflection in the mirror.

"Where am I going?"

"That abandoned house where Kelly Brosten was killed," Amie answered, and then rolled her eyes. "Damn you, Pierce, I told you this already! Remus goes in a pattern. He almost always comes back to the places he's killed last. We have to make sure we immobilize him and get him to safety. Where's Kiki?"

Ben's fingers froze in the process of putting his shoulder holster on.

"She told me once that she goes to the house every week," Ben's heart seized up in horror. "It's a Kiki thing to do. She gets mesmerized by some of the bizarre cases we go through."

"You mean she's there!" Amie cried.

Without a word to Amie, Ben swiftly moved past her into his bedroom. Urgently, he opened the top drawer of his bedside desk and pulled out a handful of bullets.

"Made of silver," he muttered as he quickly popped them in his gun, one after the other. "I read somewhere that they do wonders on werewolves."

Amie paled.

"Pierce, don't!" she yelled frantically but he was already walking out of his bedroom. She whipped out her wand and followed him out.

xxx

Amie Apparated them in front of the house. As soon as her feet touched the ground, Amie turned her wand to Ben.

"I won't let you kill him," she said in a quiet voice. Her normally deep, dark eyes were dull and angry.

Ben felt a wall of rage hit him. Letting his training take over, he advanced on her and took a hold of her hand.

Amie was too shocked to do anything when he yanked her wand away. All she could do was choke out a sob when he snapped her wand into two, then dropped in on the dirt ground.

Never in her life would she have thought that Ben Pierce would be capable of such a thing.

"Ben, please, stop!" Amie decided to resort to pleading. "I'm begging you, don't kill him."

Ben's resolve could not be shaken.

"He might have killed my partner, Tankersley."

They didn't have to go far. The howl of the werewolf ripped through the silent night.

"_Behind the house,"_ Ben thought, then ran blindly. Amie was hot on his heels, trying to cover her sobs.

The backyard of the house was unkempt. Grass grew tall and brushed their knees. A contorted, hunched silhouette caught Ben's eye. He raised his gun and fired a shot. A wounded cry from the werewolf followed it.

Amie covered her ears with her hands and let the tears fall freely down her cheeks. _Moony!_

Ben shot another time. There was no response from the beast now. Amie couldn't take it anymore. She reached at him, dug her nails in his hands, trying to get at the gun.

"Stop!" she wailed. "You've killed him, can't you see! _Stop shooting, Ben_!"

He lowered his gun and shook her hands away. Her nails had left bloody scratches on his knuckles.

With wary steps, he advanced on the figure. Taking his flashlight from his belt, Ben turned it on.

Then he fell to his knees and covered his hands with his face. The flashlight fell on the ground with a dull thump.

Kiki lay beside the fallen werewolf, obviously long dead before they had arrived.

Her arm had been severed and lay a foot away from the rest of her body. The wrist of it was attached to a handcuff, which was then attached to one hairy hand of the werewolf.

Already, the blood on her arm socket was drying.

Amie trudged towards him, then sobbed loudly as she saw the entry wounds of the silver bullets on Moony's fur. Blood trickled out steadily.

Amie couldn't bring herself to look at Kiki Tanner. She had seen enough times what Remus could do as a werewolf. This time, it was worse. She had known the victim personally.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her breath faltering. She approached Ben and fell heavily next to him. She buried her face in his shoulder and wept. "Ben, I'm so, _so _sorry."

He didn't respond. Instead, he pulled out his walkie-talkie and called in for back up. His voice sounded dead. Amie could relate. She too felt like she had nothing else to live for.

When she reached a comforting hand out to him, he pulled away.

"I want you out of my life." Ben didn't look at her. He just stood up and walked away. Amie got to her feet as well and followed him as he walked back to the front of the house.

When the police cars with their flashing blue and red lights came, Amie sighed. The entire department knew about her job at the Werewolf Rights Department. They would all blame her for the death of one of their own. She wanted to face them now, rather than leaving it for later. Ben's refusal to speak to her any more was just one rejection. She would face countless more from the other detectives and officers.

When the authorities rounded the side of the house, the werewolf had disappeared. The only lasting evidence that it had ever been there was that Kiki's detached left arm was gone as well.

xxx


End file.
